


Such extraordinary things, such life is made of

by QueenofSchmoop



Category: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bisexual Male Characters, Dreams and Nightmares, First Time, Guilt, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Smut, Spoilers for LXG, bottom!Tom, past character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23159440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofSchmoop/pseuds/QueenofSchmoop
Summary: On the Nautilus, Sawyer has nightmares. Then a conversation with Allan that leads to revelations. Which lead to sex.
Relationships: Allan Quatermain/Tom Sawyer, past Tom Sawyer/Huckelberry Finn
Kudos: 11





	Such extraordinary things, such life is made of

**Author's Note:**

> This is movie verse fic. Also, please note that this is a sort of sequel to my previous LXG fic (about Tom and Huck together as a couple) and references their past relationship. But I think it can be read as a stand alone.

American Secret Service Agent Tom Sawyer stifled a yelp as he sat up in bed. It took him less than a second to recognize his surroundings but it did not help him relax. Instead, he curled his body; hand on his chest over his heart. He thought the nightmares had ended. He should have known better. 

Not wanting to stay in his room anymore, a room now crowded with memories, he pulled on pants and a simple white shirt and padded out. He had his guns with him, of course. Tom Sawyer never went anywhere without his guns. Not anymore. He found the kitchens and caged a hot drink then went to a small galley and sat, distant from the rest of the people there. He was lost in thought, when a figure loomed over him.

“You should be resting, boy.”

“Plenty of time to rest when you’re dead,” he quipped, without even looking up. He had known that Quatermain had been there for some time, watching him. 

Quatermain sat down with a huff. “Something’s got you in a fine mood, I see. Care to talk about it?”

“No.” The word came out too quickly and he turned his face away. 

“Sometimes talking can help heal a wound.”

“And sometimes it just rips it open fresh again.”

“True.” They sat in silence for some time, conversation from others rolling over them like waves. “Would you like something stronger?”

“What?” Tom looked up. 

Quatermain gestured. “Something stronger to drink. I’ve some excellent whiskey in my cabin.”

Tom looked down at his hot drink then back up. “All right.” He left the cup and followed the older man back to his room, where Quatermain poured them both a belt. Without standing on ceremony Tom tossed it back, then coughed and hacked. 

Allan stood, a subtle smile on his lips, sipping. “I could have told you if you’d bothered to wait for a warning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sawyer croaked, flapping a hand. After chugging some water from the pitcher by the bed, Tom sighed. He sat back on Quatermain’s bed. 

“Dreams?”

“Nightmares.”

“Losing someone you care about.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes.” A very long silence stretched out. Quatermain did not try to break it. Finally Tom said, “he was my best friend when we were children. Huckleberry Finn was his name. We were Agents together.”

“The Fantom killed him.”

“Yes.”

Another long pause then, “you were more than friends.”

Tom didn’t look up. “Yes. Huck and I, like I said, we grew up together. We were very close. We liked girls but,” he shook his head, “the bond between us was…” he trailed off. 

“You were lovers.” Quatermain didn’t sound surprised. Or disgusted. 

“Yes. He wasn’t my first kiss. That was Becky. But he was my first everything else.”

“Including your first real love.” Again, it was not a question. 

“Yes. When he was killed, I thought my world would come to an end. It didn’t seem right that it didn’t.”

“It never does, when you lose someone you love that much.”

They stayed in their positions, Tom on the bed and Quatermain standing by the little table in the room. Then Tom seemed to think of something. He looked up, puzzlement in his eyes, “you don’t seem surprised. Or disgusted that I slept with a man.”

“I’m not. And if I were disgusted, I would have to be with myself as well.” He laughed at Tom’s expression. “Oh, before I was married I had many lovers, Sawyer. Both male and female.”

“You did?”

“Yes. Some were just casual affairs but there were a few I loved. One man in particular I loved very deeply.” He took a breath. “But it was not meant to be.”

“So you know what it’s like.”

“To love a man or to lose someone you love? Because I know both.”

“I see.” Tom sat and thought, then stood and crossed to where Quatermain was. He put one hand to each side of him and leaned in. He held his face close for a long beat then moved. The kiss was very like Tom Sawyer--energetic, a little sloppy and full of life. He pulled back and waited to see Quartermain’s reaction. 

“It won’t help to try to replace memories,” Allan said, his burr in full force. 

“I don’t want to. I never want to lose them. But perhaps new memories to think of?”

“I’m an old man.”

Tom smiled. “Not so old. And still very attractive.” To prove it, he leant back in and kissed him again. Without moving his hands, he shifted his body closer and they rubbed against each other, erections meeting briefly through their pants. Tom lifted his right hand off and reached around to undo the fastenings of Quatermain’s trousers but he found himself abruptly pushed back. 

“Get on the bed.”

Tom glanced at the older man then turned and walked to the bed. He climbed on it, crawled on all fours, looking back over his shoulder. “Like this?” His voice was husky. He was pleased to see desire flash through Quartermain’s eyes. 

“Take your clothes off,” came the order and Tom did exactly that, then lay back on the bed, displaying his youthful body. 

He tucked one arm under his head and looked across at the other man. “Just going to look?”

Quatermain answered by stripping off his clothes until he was nude as well, then padding over and climbing into the bed, shooing the boy under the covers. They both slid together, arms wrapping around each other and then Quatermain took Tom’s mouth in a passionate kiss. 

When Tom surfaced for breath he was shaking. “Hell,” was all he could say. 

“Indeed,” Quatermain smiled and then reached down and tugged at Tom’s cock. His smile widened at the moan that came from the boy. “If you’re anything like I was at this age, we can take the edge off for you and then take our time.” He began to work Tom’s cock briskly. 

“Wha--? I don’t--” but a mouth covered his, a tongue licked it’s way in with expertise, and Tom lost his breath again. He was in the hands of a master and decided to just go with it. He let Quatermain lead and soon he was coming, splashing all over himself and getting some on his bedmate as well. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Now we can take our time.” Quatermain scooped up some of the cooling liquid and rubbed his fingers together. “Spread your legs.”

Tom did just that and then mewled as those slickened fingers parted his cheeks and slid into him. 

“All right?”

“It’s been a while,” Tom breathed hard. Huck had always been the one to take Tom, despite Tom usually taking the lead in everything else. To feel someone doing this to him again… He felt a flash like he was betraying his friend but then those fingers curled inside him and he lost all his thoughts. 

His erection, which had gone flaccid after the orgasm, was rising to the occasion once again. 

Two fingers became three and then they stopped. Tom blinked and looked over. “What is it?”

“We need,” Quatermain made a gesture and Tom nodded. “My bag.” He gestured and Tom scrambled up and out of the bed, grabbed the bottle of slick and popped back under the sheets. “Turn over.”

“What?”

“I need you on your stomach.”

“Why?” He and Huck had always either been face to face or on their knees together. He’d never been face down on a bed before. 

“It’s easier for me. As a position,” Quatermain admitted, somewhat reluctantly. 

“Oh.” The thought had not occurred to Sawyer. He’d forgotten that instead of a young lover, he was in bed with an older man. A much older man. A thought came to him and he sat up, startling Quatermain. 

“What are you doing?”

“All the work,” Tom said as he straddled Quatermain’s legs. He took the bottle of slick stuff and squirted a helping onto his hand, then rubbed his fingers together to warm it. When that was done he put his hand back and slid his own fingers into himself. It felt different than Quatermain doing it, but familiar. He’d done this a time or two since Huck had died but usually had been unable to finish himself off this way. He worked himself even more open then slicked up Quatermain’s cock and positioned himself. “You just relax and let ‘ol Tom take care of everything,” he teased and began to ease down on the older man’s rock hard erection. 

“Sawyer--” but it was cut off by a deep gasp as Tom popped the head into himself. His eyes flew up to meet Tom’s. 

But Sawyer’s eyes were closed as he concentrated on taking Quatermain into him. He lowered his hips, feeling the burn as the rigid flesh pushed inside. It felt very different from when Huck took him but similar in a way as well. When he was down as far as he could get, his ass was settled against Quatermain’s balls, he opened his eyes and looked down. “Touch me.” It came out less a demand and more a plea. 

Quatermain lifted his hands and put one on Tom’s hip and the other on his cock. He began to caress it, taking his time this time, feeling it all over. Tom mewled again and his hips jerked, which made them both lose their breath. They set into a rhythm, Sawyer bouncing on Quatermain’s cock and Tom’s cock in Allan’s hand. After starting out slower and then speeding up, Tom began to breath hard. 

“I’m close,” he gasped out. 

“Not yet,” Quatermain growled and took his hand off the boy’s dick. 

“No,” he moaned, and in retaliation, he arched his back and brought his weight down.

“You’ve much to learn,” came the reply and then Tom was flipped onto his back, head hitting the soft pillow with a thump. He looked up and saw Quatermain looming over him. His expression grew confused as Quatermain bent his head, but did not kiss him. Instead he moved his mouth over Tom’s neck and kissed him there. Tom giggled. “What was that?” Quatermain pulled back to ask. 

“Tickled.”

“I see.” The mouth came down again, this time at the hollow of Tom’s throat. It moved around, pressing kisses and little licks in different places. It felt good, Tom realized after a bit, but he also felt a little silly. This was the type of thing you did with women to make them feel loved and appreciated. Sure, he’d done this sort of thing with Huck but…

Quatermain claimed his mouth again and then reached up a hand and ruffled it through Tom’s red hair. “Beautiful,” he whispered. 

“Me?” Tom scoffed. “Girls are beautiful. Sunsets are beautiful. Not me.”

“Trust me, young Sawyer,” Quatermain told him, reaching down and tracing his fingers over Tom’s chest. “You are, indeed, beautiful.” He leant back down and kissed him again, a kiss so full of warmth and affection that for a minute it was like kissing Huck again. 

Then Quatermain thrust into him and his eyes opened wide and he found himself just holding on as the hunter pounded into him. His cock rubbing between them with every thrust, he held on as long as he could then gasped out, “going to come.”

Quatermain gave one last shove into him and that was it--Tom was spending all over himself and Quatermain--saying a litany of things, babble really. His ass clenched tight and Quatermain followed seconds later, causing Tom to leak a little more from his cock. 

With a long exhale, Allan Quatermain fell to the side, slipping free of the wet warmth of Tom’s ass. They lay there on the bed, catching their breath, for a time. Then Tom got up and, gentleman that he was, cleaned them off as best he could. Quatermain watched him through lidded eyes, saying nothing. 

Tom slid back under the covers and lay down beside Quatermain, simply looking at him. Then he stretched his neck forward and pecked a kiss on his lips. He was drawing back when he felt a kick and suddenly he was on the floor.

“Hey!” He looked up.

“Go back to your room and let an old man get some sleep.” It was said with a smile on Quatermain’s face and affection in his voice. 

“Fine,” Tom smiled and got up. He only put on his drawers and pants, didn’t bother with his shirt. Carrying that, guns tucked in his waistband, he headed for the door. 

“Sawyer?”

Tom stopped, hand on the door. He turned a quarter turn. He thought about saying “yes, Alan?” for if you could not call a man by his Christian name after having him thoroughly ravish you when could you? Instead he said nothing, but waited. 

“I won’t tell you the nightmares will ever go away. They won’t. But in time, hopefully, enough good memories will replace the bad ones.”

Tom waited to see if there was more, nodded, and opened the door. “Thanks,” he said softly but clearly and knew that Quatermain knew he meant more than the advice. He padded back to his room, nodding to a few people on the way, knowing what he must look like. 

When he got back to his room, he took off most of his clothes and collapsed into bed. He found himself thinking of Huck but it didn’t hurt like before. He fell asleep, and he did not dream anymore that night.

End

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I need to change/add to the tags


End file.
